


Beautiful pain

by memoriesoflastwords



Category: Cursed (TV 2020)
Genre: Character Death, Death, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, Sword of Power, fey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:06:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26790370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memoriesoflastwords/pseuds/memoriesoflastwords
Summary: Here comes fanwriter.it's Writober's third day, centered on the Hanahaki disease! I knew nothing of this trope when I read it on the program, but it turned out to be quite exciting to write about.Nimue isn't sure she trusts Arthur. Not sure she can trust him. And since love and trust, for her, go hand in hand...
Relationships: Arthur/Nimue (Cursed), Kaze & Morgana | Igraine & Nimue (Cursed)
Collections: Writober di Fanwriter.it, Writober2020 di Fanwriter.it





	Beautiful pain

Nimue couldn’t seem to find peace.

She doubted she had ever really slept peacefully since she had left her village, since the Red Paladins had come for her people and left with pride and Fey ash on their clothes. Even by Arthur’s side, she hadn’t been able to fall asleep without nightmares finding their way in, suspicion tickling her ear.

She could trust the Fey, of course she could, even just because they were brothers and sisters and were facing the same desperate situation. So, she did. She trusted each and every one of them with her own life. And not trusting the Green Knight – Gawain – was never an option, really. Not trusting Merlin? A bit more realistic. But she could feel his love, and even just for that, she trusted him. A father’s love can’t be evil, she thought. A father’s love can’t be fake.

She could trust Pym, her closest friend, and although she could feel her anger after Nimue hadn’t managed to save Dof – a Spear – from his wounds, they had lived through too much pain and fear of being alone to leave each other’s side.

She could trust Morgana, for, despite being human and having grown under God’s hand, she loved the Fey as she did, understood their ways, fought for their safety. So, she did. She trusted her with her secrets and feelings and friendship.

After all, she knew who she trusted. Her friends, her people, her family. But there was one thing, one person, she was not sure she trusted. But how can you not trust your heart?  
Nimue couldn’t seem to find peace as she walked up and down the room.

She had been half asleep by the fire, the Sword of Power held tight in her hands, as Kaze had entered the room, her pace swift, her breath held back.

“Nimue.” she had called her, worry on her face. “I’m sorry to wake you up, but you must follow me now.” she had said, shaking her shoulders until she woke up.

Confused, Nimue had held the Sword even tighter, and followed her Fey friend outside.

Sir Ector hadn’t been pleased when they had taken a hold of his city, but either he was getting used to not having to rule, or he was simply waiting for the Red Paladins to intervene. Either way, that was, temporarily, not Nimue’s problem. As long as Sir Ector’s men and her Fey didn’t come to arms against one another, things were all right.

They were supposed to leave that same day – Nimue for Uther’s camp, Arthur and the Fey for the beach, to be collected by the ships the King had promised to send. Why, then, was Kaze still there, and in such a hurry, indeed, but not ready to leave the citadel? Why was her stoic friend behaving as if a star had fallen from the sky?

“It happened as we were making the last arrangements.” Kaze spoke as she quickly walked down her stairs, and Nimue found herself running in order to follow the Fey’s rhythm. “He started coughing, and before I could do anything about it, he was choking.”

He, who?

She wanted to ask, but she found she had no reason to.

Arthur was sitting down, shoulders against a wooden beam, an open hand on his chest as he coughed, as if trying to take something off, pull something away from within. Every time he coughed, one or more of what seemed to be flower petals fell on his laps from his mouth.

“Arthur?”

The moment she called him, he barely looked up.

So Nimue got down on her knees, eyes wide open in confusion as she tried to understand not how or why, but what was going on. She had never seen such a thing. She had never witnessed such beautiful pain.

“What’s going on?” Nimue held Arthur’s face in her hands, turned her eyes to meet Kaze’s. “What does this mean?”

“It’s a spell of sorts. I’d rather call it a curse, actually.” Kaze got down on her knees as well, a hand on Arthur’s forehead as if to check for a fever.

Arthur’s eyes moved from Nimue to Kaze to Nimue again. He was suffering. He was scared. He kept his mouth closed, as if in doing so he could prevent in any way the petals from falling down.

At his refusal to show weakness, Nimue imagined how the petals were piling up behind his closed lips, how his whole body was slowly becoming a corpse and a tomb at the same time. A vase rather than a tomb, she thought, biting her tongue at how inappropriate that was. But maybe Arthur would have laughed at it. Hadn’t he been the one suffering, of course.

“Breathe through your nose.” she urged him as she noticed his breathing getting more and more like a dying wind. “We’re going to solve this situation, all right? We’re going to…”

“Arthur!”

Nimue didn’t even need to turn around. By now, she’d learned Morgana’s voice by heart. The moment her friend let herself fall to the ground, confused and scared, by his brother’s side, Nimue knew she had to save him. And how the awareness of that was only coming with Morgana’s appearance scared her. She did want Arthur to survive for his own good. She really did. Or didn’t she?

“Nimue, what’s happening?” Morgana took a hold of her arm, shaking her head. “What’s happening to my brother?”

She wanted to save him. She had no way of knowing whether or not she was going to survive her meeting with Uther, in the camp shared with the Red Paladins. Arthur had no choice but to survive. “I don’t know, Kaze thinks he was cursed, but…”

Arthur coughed, again, and trying to hold back the petals wasn’t enough.

Nimue found herself covered in petals she knew the names, the meanings, of.

Aconite of the deepest purple covered her lap, butterfly weed, orange colored and pretty to the view, tickled her nose, yellow carnations and cyclamen petals were still taking their time dancing in the air. As Arthur coughed again, Nimue could see orange lilies behind his slightly parted lips.

In the forest by the village she had grown up in, Nimue had learned every flower had its meaning. And she could find no positive whisper in the petals she was now covered with. She could find no love, no friendship, no hope. But she could find hatred, and doubt. And at last, she knew.

“I’m sorry.” she said, as she developed a taste for that evil knowledge she now had. “I’m so sorry, Arthur. There’s nothing I can do.”

As Arthur looked up, pain and fear all the same thing, as Morgana parted her lips in a cry and Kaze shook her head, Nimue put her forehead against that of the man she had loved just the night before. Loved, but never quite trusted. Loved, but never quite truly.

She was born with nature protecting her, with Gods she didn’t know or understand watching over her. 

She hadn’t always believed in their presence, and she had rebelled, in small ways as a child, installing a revolution against the Paladins as the woman she was now.  
She had believed in a great romance with a knight, but what she was living was a joke with a sellsword. She probably did love him. But she couldn’t trust him with all her heart, and that was the reason her love could never be enough to save him from the beautiful punishment of the Gods above.

She closed her eyes as the flowers grew and held, far more loving in their lethal touch than her embrace could ever have been. And as Arthur closed his eyes, dark rose petals escaping his mouths, Nimue knew that was one more death on her hands.

Because she trusted the Fey, and Pym, and Morgana.

But she now knew better than to trust her heart.

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoyed this TV series more than I thought I would, but I sadly saw not much chemistry between Nimue and Arthur (team Lancelot for the win!). Still, curious to see where season two brings us!
> 
> If you'd like to support my ongoing project, consider buying me a coffee at ko-fi.com/warsgospel ^^


End file.
